


Ruined

by thediscontent



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Biting, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Established Relationship, Jealousy, Light Masochism, M/M, Overstimulation, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Sadism, Size Difference, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), degredation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thediscontent/pseuds/thediscontent
Summary: George always looks so fucking perfect. Dream wants to show him how wrecked he can get.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 114
Kudos: 2399
Collections: MCYT, dreamnotfound mature/explicit





	Ruined

**Author's Note:**

> here we are again, yet another one-shot born from me procrastinating my actual homework. honestly, this is just me indulging myself. oh well, enjoy! I'm definitely going to regret this.  
> also, hey tiktok 😎

George really was terribly pretty. He looked effortless, a beauty that came as natural as rain. He was smart and funny, and everyone he met fell under his spell; they couldn't help but like him. His coy looks and impish smiles, how he would bite at his lips when he was lost in thought, blushing at the slightest suggestive comment, Dream knew had been doomed from the start. His smooth, flawless skin was silken, the color of fairest milk, just fucking perfect. His hair was soft and the perfect length to pull on, to force him to his knees. His lips were plump, petal pink, so easy to puff up and darken with bruises. Dream loved it, loved _him_ , intensely, fervently, so much that it hurt when they were apart. He fit perfectly into Dream's life, like a puzzle piece he hadn't known was missing until he'd found it. Perfect, so _fucking perfect_ all the time.

He was far smaller than Dream, and they both liked it, even if George refused to say it out loud. Dream could wrap his hands around George's pale thighs, around his waist and hips and throat, strong enough to leave bruises and marks that stained his flawless skin for weeks. He liked that, leaving his mark. He didn't know why or where it came from but, he always had this dark streak in his heart, an urge to mark up the pretty girls and boys he fucked, make them cry and beg underneath him, pull them apart until they were utterly destroyed and useless. George was so good to him, so sweet and loving, and Dream felt immeasurable guilt at the little voice in his head, screaming at him to be mean and cruel, to hold him down and give the smaller man everything he deserved.

Maybe it was insecurity, maybe it was something else, but whatever it was, he couldn't make it go away. When he and George had fucked before, he'd tried his best to be sweet, to be kind and slow and show George how gentle he could pretend to be. He'd stroked his hair, kissed him softly, soothed every whine and whimper that the boy had pressed against Dream's skin, he'd done _everything_ right. God, he wanted to be kind so bad, but he just couldn't make himself that person. It's not to say Dream had a bad time with George, not by any means, but the entire time they'd been wrapped in each other's arms, Dream had wanted to fuck him so hard that he cried. He didn't, he always resisted, ashamed of himself, but tonight, something was different. 

Dream hadn't liked the way that guy was talking to George. He knew that fucking move, that hold on George's arm, what was surely meant to be reassuring and endearing touch, because Dream had used it on him before. George was oblivious to the man's intentions, that was clear, but it did little to soothe the roaring beast in Dream's stomach. The way he cocked his little head, cute and innocent, lolling at his shoulder as he smiled pleasantly towards the man who, albeit not as much as Dream did, towered over him. He was talking about the book currently in George's hand, something about a "recommendation for the apathetic reader." Ha. What bullshit. George really was too nice for his own good.

The hand moved up, closer to George's shoulder, gripping around George's bicep as the owner, a fucking idiot with curly brown hair and big bookbag slewn over his shoulder, lead him to another section of books, too far away from Dream for him to discern the titles. He bit his tongue, sipping angrily at his black coffee, probably looking absolutely ridiculous to the other occupants of the book store. He watched heatedly as George bent down to grab another book, and the man's hand slid down from George's arm to slide down his spine and curl itself around his waist. George stood straight up, clearly uncomfortable at the attention, and turned to look for his boyfriend, a panicked plea alight in his dark eyes, knowing he'd gotten himself in too deep. That was all Dream needed, and wordlessly he stalked over to the pair, George smiling at him, relief clear on his face as the oblivious man continued to talk about whatever the hell he had thought George was interested in.

"-anyways, I really think you would benefit from this, but if you want, maybe we could figure it out together? Over a drink, I know this-"

His voice grated, he'd a British accent that Dream found nowhere as endearing as George's, too frilly and pompous for Dream to listen to a second longer. 

"Clay! Hey, meet my new friend!" George fluttered, hurriedly, noticing the dark glimmer in Dream's eyes. "Uh, Andrew, was it?"

"Yeah." The man, _Andrew,_ looked up to Dream aggressively, angry at being interrupted from what could have been his latest conquest. "Is this your boyfriend?"

George laughed, and it sounded glittery and high pitched, meaning he was nervous, something that Dream did not like to hear.

Dream mimicked a false smile on his face, pulling George away from the aggressor and towards himself, close to his chest. George breathed heavily, tapping his foot as he saw the beginnings of a fight gathering.

"Um, well, we really have to go, but it was nice talking to you!" George wrung his hands and began pushing Dream towards the exit. 

"Wait, I never got your number," The man reached out and grabbed George's wrist roughly, causing him to wince and let out a quiet hiss of pain. "Here, put it in my ph-."

Dream didn't let him finish, ripping the man's large hand off George's slim wrist. 

"Don't fucking touch him." He glowered, teeth gritting together as he tried to squash his rage down.

"Hey man, chill, I was just trying to-"

"Fuck. Off." Dream rose to his full height, staring at the man (he refused to call him Andrew, even in his head)with an incinerating glare, his hands possessively gripping George's waist and wrist. The man swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing on his throat as he backed off, maybe only now realizing the size difference between them. Dream turned, ushering George out of the store, the silence growing tense between the two. 

"Clay?" 

"What?" Dream snapped, nearing the end of his rope. He still had that possessive hold on George as he walked them outside, through the parking lot, and towards his car. George was quiet as he slid into the passenger seat, fiddling with his seat belt until Dream grabbed his hands, and pushed them into his lap, presumably annoyed with the nervous movement.

"Are you...okay?"

Dream laughed, but it did not reach his eyes, turning around and gripping the back of George's seat as he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. 

"I don't know, George, shouldn't I be asking you if you're okay?" He spat, anger painting his tone.

"W-well, I don't k-"

Dream cut him off, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning the quick drive back to his house.

"Listen, George, I'm gonna talk and you're gonna fucking listen to what I have to say." Dream's grip was tight on the steering wheel as he sped down the road. "You're mine. Period."

"Yeah, I know, Clay." 

"Do you? You really gonna play dumb like that?" Dream flexed his jaw, tendons popping angrily.

"Y-you're going really fast..." Dream was. He was speeding around 20 miles over the speed limit, but he knew there wouldn't be any cops to stop him, and it's not like there was anyone but them on the road.

"George, you get yourself into the dumbest fucking situations, and just expect me to come and sweep you out of them," This was a stupid argument; he wasn't actually upset that that, and he would always save him, of course, but to be honest, Dream just needed something to be angry at right now, and George was the nearest victim. "You're so dense sometimes, it kills me."

"C-clay..." George murmured weakly.

"Enough. Okay? I don't-" He huffed loudly, "I don't want to say something I'll regret."

They arrived home sooner rather than later, probably because Dream had cut the drive time in half with his reckless driving. He was about to walk in, key in the lock, when he heard George stop abruptly behind him, feet crunching in the gravel.

"You know what? No. This isn't fair." George said, his voice strained with emotion.

"George, please, not right now."

"No, _fuck you_ , Clay." Dream lurched around, surprise evident on his face, his eyebrows arched high as he looked back at George, who trembled with passion. " You think I asked for that? For him to come up to me and talk my ear off? You think I liked the weird way he was looking at me?"

"Well, you sure let it go on long enough."

"Oh yeah, blame me for that."

"What the fuck do you want me to do? I got you out of the situation, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You sure did." George pushed past him into the house, kicking his shoes off to go pout on the couch as Dream followed him inside.

"You know, maybe he wouldn't blame me." He called over his shoulder, clearly thinking he'd won the argument already.

"What did you just say?" Dream asked.

"I said, maybe he wouldn't blame me. Maybe he wouldn't be such a dick about this. Maybe I _should've_ given him my numb-"

Dream yanked George's shoulder, spinning him around to face him as alarm bells rang in Dream's head.

"Yeah? You think so?"

George whimpered, but as his slim hands ran over Dream's chest, their eyes met, so full of heat that Dream was sure one of them would begin to smolder. 

He gripped George's waist and pulled them flush together, one hand tight in George's hair as he forced his head back to look Dream in the eyes.

"You're testing my patience here, George." Dream meant every word. He could feel his facade melting away under this new, intense heat. George examined his face for a moment before a cruel satisfaction washed over his dark eyes.

"Maybe he could fuck me better." George whispered.

Dream snapped. He kissed George so hard he tasted blood, hands hard and mean as he succumbed to himself. He pushed them against the wall, burying his hands in George's hair, gripping at his thighs and hips so hard that George made small noises of pain. The room was dark and cold as George's hands latched onto his shoulders, scrabbling at his skin, pushing his jacket down. 

"You think so? You think he could fuck you better than I could?" Dream bit George's bottom lip as George whined into his mouth. "Well, why don't you try it out?" He grasped George's thighs firmly, picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder as he marched to their bedroom. He pushed the door open so hard it made an indent in the wall, tossing George onto their bed like he weighed nothing. He tore his shirt off and glared at him from across the room. 

"Clay...please," George whispered to him.

"Oh, baby, being sweet isn't going to work on me now."

George gasped and spread his legs slightly, playing his part so well Dream almost forgot how angry he was. Almost.

He walked over to the dresser on his side of the bed, grabbing a half-empty bottle of lube and tossing it at George carelessly. He pulled George's thighs so that he half hung off the bed, legs crunched up to his chest. 

"Take your clothes off." Dream commanded.

George did, shucking his pants, shirt, and underwear off quickly until he lay naked and shivering under Dream's severe gaze. 

Dream pulled his belt out of the loops of his jeans slowly, watching as arousal glimmered in George's eyes. He considered the weight of it in his hands for a while before he decided against it, throwing it down onto the ground. George whimpered, pushing his hips in the air as his cock dripped precum onto his belly, desperate for stimulation.

"Poor baby, not so proud now, are you?"

George closed his eyes, trying to sit up to grab at Dream before he was shoved back down, a large hand forcing him flat on his back with his knees bent. Dream spread George's thighs wide open, running his hands up and down, pinching at the soft skin. George threw his head back, hips trying to buck up as Dream forced him down yet again. 

"Stop fucking moving." 

"P-please, touch me."

"I am touching you." Dream bent down and began kissing the insides of his thighs, leaving light hickies all the way down to the base of George's cock, where he nudged at it teasingly. George cried out, but he stayed still. Dream smiled and rewarded him with a harsh bite on his inner thigh, sure to bruise as George wailed. He slid a hand up George's stomach and began to tease his chest, thumbing and pinching until his thighs began to tremble and Dream could no longer hold him down.

He leaned back, uncapping the lube and pouring it over his fingers, eyes full of darkness as he hungrily stared down at the mess under him. Just what he wanted. He ran his fingers teasingly at his hole before pushing one in, slow but not nearly as gentle as he's been in the past. Pumping in and out, George's discomfort swiftly melted away, and he began to let out breathy little moans, music to Dream's ears.

"M-more, I need more, _ah_ -" Dream slipped a second finger in, scissoring them until he stroked over a sensitive spot inside, George arching his back in pleasure. He began to push himself back on them, and Dream smiled cruelly.

" _Whore_." He spat, slipping in a third finger as George moaned at the sudden fullness. He pulled them out, and George cried at the loss, though it was quickly replaced when Dream pulled his pants down and shoved his steel-hard length at his hole. 

"Beg for it."

"H-huh?"

"Beg for it, you little slut, and I'll give you _exactly_ what you deserve."

George turned his head away, and Dream leaned down, forcing his face to his with a hand on his jaw, kissing him cruelly. "You want me to leave you here?"

"No! No, _please_ , I'm sorry. I want you, I want you inside me, please, _fuck_ -"

Dream thrust inside him in one long, unrelenting push, forcing all the air out of George's lungs into a long, pained groan. He waited for him to adjust, just for a moment, and began to shallowly move against him, little more than grinding their hips together. He felt a pang of guilt pass through him, knowing this was far rougher than he'd ever been before.

"George."

"Y-yeah?" He replied, weak.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Mmm, y-yes."

"Good. Because I'm about to fuck you like I don't."

George's eyes rolled back in his head as Dream began to slam in and out of him, biting at his collarbones and pressing open-mouthed kisses to his throat. His short nails clawed at Dream's back as his knees were pushed up to where he was more or less folded in half, his breaths coming in short gasps and going in lewd moans. 

"It-It's too big, Clay, I can't, please, I can't-"

"You will."

George whimpered and dug his fingers into Dream's hair pulling slightly with each thrust into his body. 

The pace was punishing, slamming down onto his prostate over and over, and George could already feel himself falling apart, a tight ball of heat shaking in his stomach, tingling through his veins. He began to cry, tears rolling down his cheeks as Dream laughed savagely and fucked into him hard and fast, hands leaving bruises on his hips and the underside of his knees. 

"Clay I need to cum, please, please-"

"Could he fuck you this good, baby? Make you fall apart like this?"

"N-no, only you, only you, please, Clay, I need to cum so bad." George sobbed, and Dream felt a little bad for him. He slowed down slightly, pushing deeper into him than he had before, right into his prostate and George came untouched, harder than he'd ever done before, halfway screaming as he clenched around Dream's thick cock as he fucked him through it, waves of pleasure building and falling as he worked himself to his own climax. 

"Clay-please, too much." George mewled against his throat.

"Just a little longer. You can do it." He grunted, pace speeding back up to the fervor from before.

George cried out, painfully sensitive so soon after his brutal orgasm as he did his very best to hang on and be good for Dream. Dream bit at his collarbones again, so hard he drew blood, and the taste of hot iron and the way George was trembling around him finished him off, pulsing deep inside, right up against his prostate as George writhed in overstimulation.

He was panting as he pulled out, watching as his cum dripped messily out of George's abused hole and the pretty decorations he'd left all over his skin.

George was still hiccuping softly as Dream wiped him off with his discarded t-shirt and tucked him into bed. He brought a glass of water to his lips, running his hands soothingly through his hair as he sipped it down, eyes fluttering shut.

"Tired, baby?"

George made a soft noise in confirmation, opening his arms in a motion to pull Dream close in a hug. Dream obliged, setting the water down on the nightstand and slipping under the covers to hold him. He felt so small and delicate in his arms, and Dream squeezed him tight.

"Are you okay?" He asked, slightly concerned at the quietness.

George smiled up at him, perfect little face flushed.

"Of course I am. I got exactly what I wanted."

**Author's Note:**

> uh. yeah. if u like, follow me on twt (@thediscontent_). feel free to yell at me or do whatever u want :) (i might do requests, if i like them)


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